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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29823972">Return of the Pods</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuckTapeAl/pseuds/DuckTapeAl'>DuckTapeAl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Blaseball (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Gen, The Shelled One's Pods (Blaseball Team)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:15:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>790</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29823972</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuckTapeAl/pseuds/DuckTapeAl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Wyatt Quitter tasted the Infinite in Game 37 of Season 12, Shelling Denzel Scott.</p>
<p>But the Infinite demands more.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wyatt Quitter/Wyatt Pothos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Real Good Shit</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Return of the Pods</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Quitter and Pothos having a nice night in.</p>
<p>They fall asleep, holding each other.</p>
<p>At 1:40, Quitter gets up. Stands in the middle of the living room.</p>
<p>Pothos notices, gets up a little while later.</p>
<p>Walks out, sees Quitter standing unmoving, head down.</p>
<p>"Hey, what's up, you okay?"</p>
<p>Quitter looks up, eyes glowing a baleful red, face pocked with the rough skin of a peanut.</p>
<p>"KNEEL."</p>
<p>Pothos falls to the ground.</p>
<hr/>
<p>A cold night in New York.</p>
<p>Leaf swings through Central Plark on her vines, tree to tree and rock to rock.</p>
<p>She sees something red out of the corner of her eye. Something she can't escape from.</p>
<p>She hears Ren Hunter calling from the pond as she stops under a withered oak.</p>
<p>She cannot resist the one standing there. Her former Emprex.</p>
<p>Wyatt Quitter.</p>
<p>"BOW."</p>
<p>Ren searches until morning, but doesn't find Leaf.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The Big Garage is never silent. There's always a band practicing, or a party going, or even just a television on, casting a relaxing show into the Seattle air.</p>
<p>Pitching Machine rests in a makeshift room made of curtain rods, carefully draped sheets, and a couch.</p>
<p>It buzzes lightly, dreaming of blood.</p>
<p>A soft sound of cloth being folded aside wakes the sleeping Machine.</p>
<p>Red eyes through white hair.</p>
<p>A voice long forgotten.</p>
<p>“COME.”</p>
<p>A red LED on Pitching Machine's front panel blinks to life.</p>
<hr/>
<p>A sibilant wail cries tremulously in the distance, a team of Firefighters working tirelessly to beat back the Fire.</p>
<p>A six-winged angel speaks to a hollow man at an empty coffee shop.</p>
<p>They speak on Idolatry and their shared blessings and curses.</p>
<p>A crimson flash across the street shocks the pair into silence.</p>
<p>A uniform they remember well.</p>
<p>They approach cautiously.</p>
<p>“ATTEND.”</p>
<p>Their coffee cools on the table, abandoned.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The moon glints off the warm waves of the salt spray on the Florida coast.</p>
<p>The sound of a fan boat cuts through the night, skimming across the coastal swampland.</p>
<p>Francisca Sasquatch breathes in the humid air and basks in the soundscape of the familiar Florida wilderness.</p>
<p>A figure in red and black stands motionless on a rare patch of dry ground.</p>
<p>Sasquatch slows as she approaches, curious.</p>
<p>Two points of hate, a red glow surrounding a peanut pupil.</p>
<p>“HEEL.”</p>
<p>The boat is found three days later.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The heat of the Dallas night poured in through an open window, the streetlamps outside illuminating a worn-down face above a steaming cup of tea.</p>
<p>Patel Beyonce takes a sip, and hopes the drink will relax him enough to forget the nightmares for a while.</p>
<p>Three sets of bags line three tired eyes.</p>
<p>A knock at the door.</p>
<p>Who could be knocking so late? Confused, Beyonce unlatches and opens his door.</p>
<p>A face from his worst dreams waits for him.</p>
<p>The mug of tea drops from nerveless fingers.</p>
<p>“DESPAIR.”</p>
<p>The spilled tea dries on the carpet the following dawn.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The sharp clatter of breaking dishes breaks the silence of the Halifax night.</p>
<p>York Silk curls up in his bed, bat at the ready, hoping that his moms are okay.</p>
<p>Two thuds, one soft and once loud reach through the floorboards to clutch at Silk's heart.</p>
<p>A chorus of stomping feet ascend the stairs.</p>
<p>The doors smashes inward, a massive furry fist slamming it open.</p>
<p>A shifting mass of shadowy shapes stands in the hall, and at their head, Wyatt Quitter.</p>
<p>He meets eyes with them. He is not afraid.</p>
<p>“COWER.”</p>
<p>Mrs. Silk finds an empty bed the following morning.</p>
<hr/>
<p>In the middle of Los Angeles is a place between worlds. A spot where Infinity becomes One, if you know where to look and what to say.</p>
<p>Peanut Bong does not know the right place to stand, or the right thing to say.</p>
<p>He stands anyway. He speaks anyway. He doesn't tell anyone where he's trying to go.</p>
<p>He feels their presence before he sees them.</p>
<p>“Just take me, Quitter. Don't make me wait.”</p>
<p>“SURRENDER.”</p>
<p>Bong doesn't return to the clubhouse that night.</p>
<hr/>
<p>CRACK</p>
<p>A bat strikes a ball in an open meadow at midnight.</p>
<p>CRACK</p>
<p>There is no one here to watch her. No one here to judge.</p>
<p>CRACK</p>
<p>No one to see the tears stream from her eyes. No one to watch her mourn.</p>
<p>CRACK</p>
<p>Jessica Telephone hears shoes on sand as a player walks onto the field, unexpected.</p>
<p>Wyatt Quitter stands on the mound opposite the Killer, waiting for a reaction.</p>
<p>Jessica hangs up her bat and charges the mound.</p>
<p>Scant feet before she runs into Quitter, she slides to a stop on one knee.</p>
<p>“I will give you anything, my Emprex. Take me back.”</p>
<p>“SUBMIT.”</p>
<p>Jessica Telephone smiles as her eyes turn red and her skin cracks into peanut shell.</p>
<p>“Gladly.”</p>
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